Kawaii Frackin Desu Ka
by awfullybad
Summary: Canada goes goth, Russia gets a hard on for watching America eat, Japan and China get into a fight, Canada goes emo, France buys some panties, Japan gets harassed by a weeabo, America is a real thug and something horrible happens to England.


Canada shuffled through clothes on the rack.

Someone near him was vomiting rather loudly.

Wait, no. That wasn't vomiting, that was the screamo music that was blaring through the store speakers.

Canada had made his mind up. He was going to do whatever it took to get people to notice him. That's why he decided to stop at Hot Topic, the place where emu kids and hardkore gawfs could go to fulfill their daily dose of angst and Hello Kitty (not to mentioned Invader Zim). Dressing up like a Goth was the perfect way to make a statement and-what were kids calling it these days? 'Expression of character?'

Right. Well, whatever it took. Canada was near the brink of desperation. Actually, he had already passed desperate.

He pulled off a big, black, baggy Slipknot t-shirt from the rack, along with a pair of ridiculously long jeans with ridiculous wide pant legs. But hey, it came with useless chains. Chain were totally cool right?

Canada figured that if he dressed like a freak, he might actually get noticed. So, he scuttled into the changing room, Kumajirou tagging along right behind him.

China wasn't enjoying his stroll around the mall, especially when kiosk salespersons tried to get him to buy their innovative nail polish, curling irons, hair removal wax and perfume, all the while calling him a 'pretty lady' and complimenting his hair.

He spotted a store up ahead called 'Chinatown' and breathed a sign of relief. Finally, some familiatirty in a mall full of over-rated American clothing stores!

He strutted over to the store, and as he got closer, he could hear a familiar voice. The voice was angry and even sounded offended. He stood outside the shop, wondering if it was safe to go in since perhaps the manager was having a conflict with an angry customer and a gun might suddenly be drawn.

Actually, he was really just being an eavesdropping dick.

"This is very big misrepresentation!" An angry voice. "You are making everything think anime is a Chinese product. THAT IS WRONG ON SO MANY LEVELS. You must give proper credit where it is due, and China deserve NO such thing for MY anime!"

So, it was Japan, and he was talking shit, no less!

China stormed into the Chinatown store only to find it filled with anime DVDs and action figures! Sure, it had all been made in China but that didn't make it any better.

"AIYAH! What is this?" China raged, walking up to the check out counter where Japan and a bamboozled cashier had turned to greet him with their eyes.

When he saw China, Japan's already intense glare burned with the heat of one thousand rising suns, it seemed. The cashier become even more frantic despite how a fellow Chinese man had just entered the store (though, most people would cower in fear if they saw China swishing his hips furiously while storming into a 'Chinatown' that only sold Japanese goods).

"That is exactly what I'm asking!" Japan added to the yelling. "Thousands of weeaboos flock to this location just to buy their anime DVD! That is money pouring into Chinese companies when it should be going to Japanese companies. Not to mention that ignorant people will now assume that my glorious anime is actually a Chinese product!"

China seethed with enough fury to match Japan's. "I WISH they would make all of this junk disappear, aru! They are misrepresenting my country! Where are all the dragon figurines? The Buddha dolls? The erotic paintings? Now people who are disgusted with anime will think it was MY fault, aru!"

Japan let out a small gasp. "Who would consider my beautiful artistic expression of cartooning to be disgusting?"

"I do!"

Silence.

Japan narrowed his eyes immensely. China held his breath, waiting for Japan to lash out with insults or drop to the ground to have a seizure. Instead, he got a deathly quiet and deathly serious reply, "You just crossed the line."

Japan swiftly grabbed one of the 'authentic' katanas hanging on the wall. China blinked during a few seconds of confusion but quickly shifted his body in some strange Kung Fu position.

Japan slide the sword from its sheath and began to expertly twirl and twist it with swift motions of his hand. All China could see was a blaze of blurry silver and all he could hear was violent whooshing sounds. To end the act, Japan threw the sword up into the air. It seemed to be falling in slow motion. Both China and the cashier watched the magnificent weapon fall. Japan, however, was looking straight ahead.

Faster than anyone's eyes could see, Japan extended his hand and caught the sword perfectly, clamping his fists shut as soon as the hilt made contact with his flesh.

A smirk curled on his lips; he was most defiantly showing China up.

Perplexed, it took China a few seconds to recover. However, he was not prepared to be outdone by the man he raised (not again, anyway). He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, exhaled slowly and then began his routine. He started moving his hands in strange positions and motions so quickly that he could put Naruto to shame. He bent and stretched in ways that was not humanly possible for a man of his age. He bounced from wall to wall; he did a handstand using only his two index fingers. He break danced on top of the checkout counter. Then he kicked off the counter, flew up into the air, did multiple front flips while in flight, and landed in a perfect display of The Splits right in front of Japan.

Panting, he looked up at Japan with prideful eyes.

Japan stared back at him with something resembling a sneer-an astonished sneer, but a sneer. He opened his mouth,

"I should have known that you don't have balls."

Russia stared at America dreamy eyes and a goofy smile on his face. He looked very much like a school girl who had just realized how to masturbate and was now ogling the cutest guy in school.

America was very such interested in the heaping pile of Big Macs on his tray. He opened the box and sighed happily at the beefy slab of juicy, lukewarm meat before him.

He grabbed the burger and took a giant bite into it, moaning at the delicious sensation that was raping his taste buds.

"Slower," the Russian breathed out.

"Hmmprhmfrrh?" American questioned through his munching.

"Eat slower," Russia advised, still staring at American with tantalized eyes.

America swallowed and Russia a, "'kay." He slowly brought the burger towards his mouth and gently shoved it in his opening, ketchup and mayonnaise dripping off the back of the burger.

Russia licked his lips and felt a pressure arise in his crotch.

In the middle of chewing, America grabbed four or five fries and dunked them into a massive glop of ketchup on his tray. He swallowed and drew the fries up, gently licking the ketchup off the golden and crispy potato slices, then sliding the bundle of fries into his watering mouth.

Russia released a small moan and his breath hitched.

These moments of watching America eat were so divine.

Canada walked out of Hot Topic in the most horribly fantastic Goth garb ever. He has successful slapped on a baggy Slipknot t-shirt, spiky wristbands, a leather chocker, bondage pants (complete with four chains and six pockets) and an Elmo sweatband.

He was ready to prove himself to the world and finally achieve the recognition he so rightfully deserved. He strut his stuff all the way over the escalator and confidently stepped aboard. As he escalated, he plotted. Figuring that the food court would be the best place to express one's existence to the world, he decided he would stand up on a table and loudly proclaim his identity.

He had sailed to the top and he could smell the aroma of cheeseburgers and tacos but more importantly teriyaki chicken. 'Ahh~ how diverse and cultural!' He thought to himself.

Then he suddenly felt a pressure yanking at his leg and before he knew it, his face hit the ground. He let out a startled cry but the pressure was still on him, as if a hand was holding onto his ankle and not allowing him to move his leg.

His pant leg had gotten caught in the elevator.

He squirmed around on his back, tugging and pulling and trying to break free before the machine tore his pants off completely. All the while, nobody stopped to help him. In fact, everybody simply stepped over him.

Finally, his cargo pants were released with a giant ripping sound. Quickly recovering, Canada marched over to a table just outside the Barbequed Beavers shop. He slammed on foot (clad in thick combat boots) onto the table top and stepped right up on it. He looked around the court. Ah...this was the moment of destiny.

He cleared his throat and shouted, "Hello everyone! I would like to let everyone know I am Matthew Williams, and I. AM. CANADIA."

He expected people to stop talking. He expected the whole room to look right at him. But no. He only received a few glances and the room was still a buzz with mindless chit chat.

"YOU'RE A RETARD," he heard America shout at him from somewhere in the court.

Canada's head dropped. He stared at the ground. A defeated sigh.

Well...back to Hot Topic.

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away...

Lithuania sat at the edge of Poland's bed. It was such a plush, delicious bed. The blankets were pink, the company curtain was pink, the pillows were pink, the sheets were pink, the condoms were glow-in-the dark...

Just apply that palette to a bedroom and you get: Poland's master suit!

Lithuania was anxious to see Poland's new 'play' outfit. To be honest, Lithuania had usually had quite a vanilla relationship with Poland. Occasionally the Pole would do strange and freakish things, but that was occasionally and it was nothing compared to what he was doing with Latvia some nights.

"Okay, like, I'm so totally ready," Poland called from the walk-in closet.

"Alright, I'm ready too!" Lithuania looked towards the closet with anticipation.

The door opened and Poland walked out in the most gloriously queer corset imaginable. Tight, pink leather, pristine white laces, knee-high pink high-heeled boots and a small thong made of fabric that was much too see-through.

"Like, bend the fuck over, betch."

Lithuania's jaw dropped. "P-Poland..."

"Bend over. I, like, totally wanna see dat ass up in the air. Wavin' it around like you just don't care~"

Lithuania bit his lower lip.

"Can you dig it or can you lick it?"

"Why are you sounding like a cheer leader...?"

"What? AS IF! Liet hun, like, would you srsly compare me to those skimpy hoes? Like...what?"

Lithuania honestly didn't know what to say, so he went with the obligatory compliment. "Your outfit is very cute!"

"I know right! Okay you still have to bend over. 'Cause baby, this is, like, P to the mother fuckin 'oland, betches. Knocking hoes up since, like, 1569! Totally rockin' the bed AND the world 8 days a week! WHAT-EVER~"

Something about Poland acting like the result of a threesome between Chris Crocker, Jeffree Star and Kelly was so arousing to Lithuania, that he swiftly stood and dropped his pants to the floor. "Take me, Poland. Take me."

"Betch, I thought you'd never ask."

The two Asian brothers hadn't really accomplished anything with their displays of skill. Their glares were both locked onto each other and the room was dead silent

The cashier's eyes drifted between the two, looking from Japan to China then back to Japan and finally to China. He could sense great sexual frustration between the two. Japan hadn't gotten a good lay ever since his penis had suddenly developed a purple hue and the closest thing China got to a stick up the butt was a prostate exam.

The two Asians, who obviously filled with HIGH amounts of MANLINESS and TESTERONE, were obviously angry and in need, but neither of them were willing to get naked.

"Oh, who are we kidding?" Japan sighed. He kicked off his high heels and slapped China.

"Bitch!" China gasped, yanked out of his earrings and slapped Japan back.

A much undignified catfight broke out between the two, completely with more slapping, some hissing and other strange and horribly insidious fighting techniques that girls used on each other. Somewhere, their ancestors frowned upon them.

After a while, China finally got the upper hand and began slamming Japan's head into the check out counter, nearly breaking the glass with the force of his shoving. Then Japan managed to throw China off. He quickly lunged forward and bit into China's wrist. The old man with the surprisingly delicious booty and curvy hips let out a cry of pain and staggered backwards. He tried to break free from Japan's jaws but the man was like a rabid alligator.

"Stop it!"

Both China and Japan looked over at the extremely scared looking cashier. The man began to talk again in a nervous voice, "Even though this store is called Chinatown...and even though we sell Japanese goods...we're actually a company owned by Korea."

England wasn't really a mall type of chap. Malls were typically filled with losers who didn't have any better place to hang out, which-in England's opinion-was exactly why such a place was perfect for America. Why he was even here was beyond him. He'd actually been dragged to the mall by the rest of the Allies. And now look where he was! Walking alone aimlessly because France had just left him to venture in Victoria's Secret.

"What a wanker!" The Brit grumbled audibly and folded his arms.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Gesturing up to him was a young lady standing near the kiosk. He was a bit panicked because he assumed she was offended by his language, rather than a frown or any indication of anger, she was smiling. "Can I speak with you for just a few minutes?"

Oh god. These predicaments were so hard. On one hand, if you refused, you ended up looking like an asshole. On the other hand, if you agreed, you got talked into buying a product you didn't actually need. On a third hand, if you agreed but then tried to refuse to buy the product, you still ended up looking like an asshole.

"Sure. Why not?" England said almost flatly, but surprisingly his apathy didn't offend the women.

Still smiling, she led him over to a chair. "Please take a seat," she coaxed.

Although he wasn't exactly sure of what product she was selling (because the name on the bottle was very vague and undescriptive), he took a seat anyway. From what he could gather, it looked like a lotion of some sorts. Well, England could think of multiple uses for /that/, so perhaps he'd snag a bottle after all.

The lady clasped her hands together. "I noticed that your eyebrows could use some work! If you don't mind, I'd like to show you how our patented hair removing wax formula will painlessly shed away all that unwanted brow fuzz!" She grabbed the bottle and squeezed a small bit onto a cloth, then proceeded to apply it to the thick caterpillars that England called eyebrows.

"...Blast all."

Canada stepped out of the dressing room once more. This time he was dressed in skinny jeans so tight that they were crushing his nuts. But that was okay, because they were purple and black checker board print, which made it TOTALLY worth sore gentilia. His shirt was a supaa kawaii Invader Zim tee that was tight enough to show off his figure. He kept the spiky wristband because it was 'oh so cool' and purchased additional bands, all in cute colors like purple and pink and black. He was rockin' a pair of purple converse and to top it all off, he had gauges and a rainbow belt.

As he walked towards the gaping black hole of an entrance, he noticed some classy, thick rimmed glasses. He couldn't resist. He threw off his boring and so-totally-not-hardcore glasses and grabbed the emo lenses.

Now...now he was complete.

Swinging his shoulders as he walked, he stepped back onto the escalator. This time, he didn't have to worry about his pants getting caught. But he did have to worry about the sudden American who 'accidentally' shoved him while running away from a certain Russian by running down the wrong escalator, causing him to fall on his back for a second time that day.

"Where are you going America~? I just want to play~" Russia said in a smiley voice as he followed America down the up escalator, stepping on the Canadian and not caring.

"Ahaha! You horny bastard!" America laughed and shouted as he continued to run around. "Come on! Let's find a photo booth somewhere and have sex!"

And Russia happily chased after him, both of them in hot pursuit of finding a photo booth.

At the top of the escalator, Canada lay on stomach with his ass sticking up in the air. A couple passed by. He looked up at them and with a quiet, weak voice and a smile, declared, "I-I'm Canada...!"

They didn't even glance at him.

He hung his head, causing it to smash into the ground. "Ow..." Alright...he was going to try ONE more time.

Japan and China had since disbanded from the shop. Both of them felt utterly defeated and outdone. Now Japan was sitting on a bench, emoing and China was headed for Sanrio.

Japan let out a sigh. South Korea...he should have known. That little 'bundle of joy' was like the Asian version of Italy. Actually, if America and Italy and China had a threesome and produced a child, Korea would most likely be that child.

"KAWAII!"

Japan jumped as he was started by the sudden and annoying shout close by. He quickly scanned the mall for the source and-oh my god...his poor eyes landed on a very disturbing character.

She was dressed in stripped, rainbow, knee-high socks. She had unhappily, pale legs and was wearing a short skirt that made it so much worse. Her arms were laced with rainbow arm warmers (to match her socks) and she had various anime wrist bands. She wore a tight fitting Herro Kitty t-shirt to show off her large jugs. On her neck was a dog collar with some Kanji scribbled on the tag. Her hair was about fifty different colors and looked very much like a rainbow shit all over her head. She had horribly fake cat ears protruding from her mess of hair. The fact that her eye liner was poorly done was the LEAST of Japan's worries.

He had never seen something so horrendous in his entire life.

"Konnicha wa!" She shouted again, this time louder because Japan hadn't responded to her earlier since he was frozen with terror from the mere sight of her.

She reached into her skirt (yes, her skirt. She didn't have any pockets) and pulled out a handful of Pocky. She stretched her hand out to Japan. "Want some Pocky?"

Japan cringed at the horrible pronunciation of the word (it's definitely 'poh-kee', not 'paw-kee'). He felt very disappoint. His Japanese people were so good at being American. So why were American horrible at being Japanese? It didn't make any sense!"Ah...no thank you..." Japan tried to sound as polite as possibly but that was hard to when you were holding back vomit.

"Aww, hai!" Instead of shoving the Pocky into her mouth like she normally good, she licked it up slowly, as if she was trying to seduce the poor victim sitting on the bench.

Japan felt deathly ashamed, and he was positive that if America saw this, he'd feel quite the same.

Irritated by his quietness. The smiling Weeabo stared into his vacant eyes. "You're soooo bishie."

Japan chocked on the air. "That's not exactly true...I'm actually rather plain and lacking of a personality. And I'm actually a very old man with serious hip problems due to the wild crazy sex I had as a young adult."

The...thing laughed. "Suggoi desu ne! Kawaiii~" She leaned forward, tilting her rainbow shit hair towards him. "Feel my neko ears! They're totemo soft!"

Japan blinked. "I don't think...I mean...it seems like a health hazard..."

"Kawaii desu! Feel my neko ears, onegaaaaaiii!"

Something about this creature made Japan want to stab something with his katana. To be more exact, something about this creature made Japan want to beat her to death with a slab of raw fish. Salted, of course.

Hesitantly, Japan slowly drew his hand up and lightly tapped the fake cat ears with his finger. The creature purred, causing Japan to let out a gasp and quickly yanks his hand back, very much startled by the sudden sounds of animalistic arousal that were being elicited by this human being.

"Oh, I have the perfect idea! Let's talk in Japanese!" The Weeabo cheered rather excitedly.

Japan figured that maybe if he was boring enough, the crazy girl would leave him alone. "Alright..."

"You start!"

"Ogenki desu ka?" He began with a simple 'how are you', excepting the other to be completely ignorant and not understand anything but the 'desu.' Perhaps the 'ka'.

Much to his surprise, the girl's grin widened and she said, "Genki desu!"

Japan was literally shocked when she respond correctly. Perhaps this person wasn't just a Weeabo fury. Perhaps she was actually sincere in her interests in his language and culture. So, Japan decided to kick it up a notch.

"Naze Nihon wa suki desu ka?" Asking her why she liked Japan would be the first step to determining if she was truly a Weeabo.

But instead of getting an answer, all Japan got in return was a stupid looking blank stare accompanied by several blinks. "...Oh!" The creature suddenly said, as if the realization that she failed in all aspects of life just hit her. "See, I dont really know toooo much Japanese. I'm going to Japan though. It'll be suggoi!"

"H-how do you think you can manage in Japan if you know less Japanese than a first grader!" Japan said in a rather concerned and hopeless tone of voice.

"I know how to write 'love' in Kanji! Oh, and I learn from watching anime. I know how to say baka, inu, neko, all different kinds of greetings, kawaii, suggoi, kakkoi. Baka means stupid. So if I say 'you're so baka!' that means that you're stupid. Oh, but dont worry. YOU'RE not stupid because you're a Nihon bishie. Inu means dog, neko means cat. Like my cat ears-nyaa!" Great, she had managed to learn Japanese animal sounds. "Kawaii means cute, suggoi means super cool and kakkoi means awesome! Nihon is kakkoi!"

At some point, Japan wanted to run away. He wanted to run as far away as possible and lock himself in his room and never come out for another three hundred years. He knew what those words meant; he didn't need a random girl with a hard on for Jrock to explain his words to him. By now, Japan had fully given up on the girl.

He cleared his throat. "The Kanji on your collar says 'cunt'. You know that, right?"

"Mommy, Mommy!' A little girl was close to having a giggle fit inside Sanrio.

"What on earth could be so funny?" The mother asked with a small smile.

"That's a crazy woman over there, Mommy~ she gathered together a biiiig pile of stuffed dolls and she's rolling around in them just like I do at home! She's making funny noises, too. She keeps hugging them. I didn't know that big people liked Hello Kitty so much!"

The woman turned to look at the spectacle her daughter was describing. Sure enough, China was lying on a heap of plushies, holding one close to his chest. His facial expression of that of a stoner getting a dick massage.

"Kitty-chan, aru..."

France set the pile of under garments on the counter and the cashier gave him an intrigued look.

"So," she started in a somewhat flirtatious tone as she batted her eyelashes at him. "You've got a girlfriend?"

France smiled. "These are for my many lovers."

"How many people do you manage to get in bed per night?"

"Individually or in an orgy?"

"Both."

"Well, that depends~"

"Depends? Depends on what?" She was staring right into his eyes. Her entire facial expression was overcome with desire. She didn't even look as she slid the panties into the shopping bag. Then she handed it to him.

"On the mood." France reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of polka dotted bikini briefs and handed them to the cashier.

She bit her bottom lip and whispered a 'thank you', then winked.

"Non, it was my pleasure~" He beamed before he trotted off.

The rest of the panties would be given to the other Allies as presents, and because let's face it, Russia probably had a deep desire decorate his crotch with lacy fabric anyway.

Oh, and France was also saving a pair for the gay guy working at PacSun.

"Oh hell yeah! Wonka machine!" America cheered as he waddled (had to because his ass was still sore) over to the candy dispensing machine.

"What is this?" Russia asked as he approached.

"Oh snap oh snap oh snap!" America began shoving dollar bills into the machine. "You put like, nine dollars in here and it'll let you pick up to three different Wonka candies to mix into a super freakin' amazing cup of tooth decay goodness!"

"How sadistic!" Russia commented with a small smile.

America began rapidly pressing buttons on the touch screen. "Okay, uh...let's see...I'mma get sour Shockers...hey, you want anything?"

"Hm? Oh, you know I'll just end up stealing some of the candy from you anyway, so it doesn't matter~"

"Ahaha! Hmm...I can't decide...Do I Runts and Gobstoppers? Chewy or hard? I dunno...chewy is great but you can't hardness isn't easy to beat."

"Actually it is easy to beat! America proved that just a few moments ago."

"Yeah, I think Imma just go for chewy-WHAT THE FUCK. Dude! It ate my dollar!"

"Oh no!"

"Holy shit!"

"Disaster!"

"What the fuck!"

"Kolkolkolkolkol..."

America then shook the machine. "Hey! Give back my money you whore!"

"America realizes he is being very stupid right now, da? Talking to a machine...Silly, silly."

"Fuck this." He turned away from the machine and noticed the Lids behind him. "Hey, Russia, how gangster do you think I would look if I bought a Yankee's cap, sagged my pants, grabbed a sweatshirt from Old Navy and bought some new Kicks?"

"Very gangster. How gangster do you think I would look if I wear Halloween mask all around mall?"

"Very gangster."

And so it was decided.

After getting decked out in total baller thug homie gangsta ghetto attire, America was in the mood to hop into his Hummer, crank up 'dem beatz' and ride around town with the windows down. So perfectly obnoxious that is was EXACTLY his style.

He began calling up the rest of Allies and telling them to meet at the carousel near the front entrance.

Of course, America just HAD to pay a few bucks to jump on a horse that was much too small and ride the merry-go-round just once. Or twice. Or three times.

"Grrr! I am...the Great Kingdom of Britain!" America mimicked as he stood atop a might, plastic stead. "Fear me and my giant eyebrows! Fear the enormous stick that is forever lodged up my 'arse!' I shall bully you around for the rest of your days! YOU WILL NEVER FIND TRUE LOVE."

Russia was just happily twirling around in a carriage until he wanted to puke.

France was the first to arrive. Nobody really questioned the contents of his Victoria's Secret's bag because this thing was a common occurrence. China came running towards them, immediately jumping into the carriage with Russia to hide. Apparently, security guards didn't like it when grown men developed the behavioural patterns of little girls while inside a store filled with kids and emos.

"Why is Russia wearing a scary mask...?" France asked.

"Because he's a G. Okay, so I think we're missing England and some other bitch whose name escapes me," America replied.

Speaking of...

"Hey! Everyone!"

Startled by the noise, the Allies turned to look at the staircase. Their jaws dropped. At the top of the stairs was Canada. He was completely and utterly naked.

Everyone simply stared at him in shock and terror and anticipation and maybe even pleasure.

"Aha!" The Canadian gave a small laugh. "You notice me know! You notice-"

"Hey!" America suddenly shouted over Canada, "There's England-AND HOLY SHIT STICKS, HIS EYEBROWS ARE GONE."

Everyone let out a dramatic gasp and quickly turned to stare at the browless Brit walking towards them with a deep crimson blush on his face.

Everyone ran over to him, bombarding him with mindless yelling and many questions.

"But...but..." Canada fell to his knees.

"Dude! How did it happen!"

"Mon cheri, your sex appeal has just risen considerably!"

"Do you want me to kolkolkol someone for you~?"

"AIYAH! So shocking!"

Canada let out a whimper. "Eh...? I got naked...you looked at me...w-why...WHYYYYYY!"

The Weeabo creature shoved Japan onto the DDR mat in the arcade room and slipped two quarters into the machine.

"I-I really can't do this...I've dont exactly play this much, and as I've said, I'm old-"

"It's starting!" The thing squealed as she hopped onto her own DDR mat.

A very fast paced song began to play. The Weeabo was trying to hard to keep up with the flashing, seizure inducing arrows and moving background.

That's when Japan started moving his body and swishing his hips and shaking dat ass and kicking his legs with such expertise that it literally blow the Weeabo's mind to the point where she stopped moving completely and stared-mesmerized-by Japan's body and skill.

After he had completely and utterly destroyed any bit of self-confidence she had left, the Weeabo decided to buy him lunch.

"Thank you," he told her as they both took a seat.

Japan had ordered McDonalds. It was a Japanese favourite, naturally. The Weeabo ordered sushi. Surprised? Neither was Japan.

"I used to dislike sushi," she started as she dipped a piece of sushi into soy sauce with sloppily held chopsticks. "I was so baka back then! Then when I wanted to be super kawaii suggoi smart desu, I started forcing myself to eat the oishii sushi until I finally liked it! Yaaay me! Now all I eat is Asian food. Pocky and sushi and rice candies, because those are the only Japanese foods that exist, right? Hey, do you wanna come over my house after this? I have sooo many anime DVDs and the cutest Higurashi cosplay outfits. I also have plushies of Naruto and Bleach. What's it like being Japanese? You must feel soooo good to be GREATEST race EVER. You know, I'm saving up money so I can get plastic surgery so I can look exactly like a Japan person-"

WHAM.

Next thing the girl knew, a burger was planted in her face.

"..."

Japan merely gave a small smirk of satisfaction. It was no salted salmon, but it still felt great


End file.
